


burst

by debilitas



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, bl3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22234225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debilitas/pseuds/debilitas
Summary: Why does Lilith insist on being so brave, so charming? It’s truly impeding a lot of scientific progress.
Relationships: Lilith/Patricia Tannis
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56





	burst

**Author's Note:**

> commission for cherry!! thank you so much. tannis is always so fun to write

“When I get my hands on that—"

"Tannis."

"— And that Troy! When I'm finished with him, no morgue in the galaxy will be able to identify—"

"Tannis!"

"What?"

_Pop!_

Tannis looks down, newly burst ice pack soaking her hand with frigid water. She'd fished it out of the back of her mini-freezer, intending to treat the bruise forming on Lilith's cheek before she'd distracted herself. Tannis lets out an exasperated noise, tossing the destroyed pack into the nearby bin and retrieving another.

There's something off about Lilith, and it's not from the recent head injury. The Lilith in front of her lands somewhere in the uncanny valley of her friends— she has those now, apparently — and she can't determine the cause. _What is it…?_

She presses the ice pack against Lilith's cheekbone with a clinical hand, Tannis' heart even managing to twinge with a modicum of guilt when the other woman winces. Just a modicum, mind you. She's not the type of mindless neanderthal to express such trivial emotions openly.

Rage, though, is the exception. There's nothing trivial or simple about the anger she feels towards the Calypsos, Troy in particular. He'd humiliated her very dearest friend in front of the entire planet, maybe the whole galaxy. The tattoos don't even look good on his bony arm.

_The tattoos!_ That's what's missing from Lilith's visage. The pale skin of her arm is blank, barren, without them. Tannis is so used to the constant dull glow that she didn't even register what was so out of place. Perhaps she'll get Lilith a different jacket, or some bracelets, just to occupy the empty space.

"I feel naked," Lilith says.

"I assure you: you're not," Tannis replies, adjusting the pack. She decides it's fortunate that Lilith is fully clothed, as the sight of anything but might knock her right off her feet. And she trusts that no one on board is equipped to treat a head injury, so she'd simply have to die on the floor of her lab.

"I meant the tattoos," Lilith snorts. Even if Tannis doesn't enjoy being laughed at, she's willing to endure if it means easing the other woman's suffering. "Don't know anything but being a siren."

"You are a siren. A paused one, perhaps, but a siren nonetheless." Tannis can no longer feel her fingertips.

Lilith takes the pack from her. "Can I tell you something?"

What a strange sensation it is, being someone's confidant. Tannis isn't sure if anyone has ever trusted her with as much information as Lilith does. She's not particularly easy to talk to (because half the time she's not listening) and is closer to mad scientist than therapist. 

Mad scientists get entirely too much flak, now that she's thinking about it. Valuing things as flimsy as morals or implications over pure scientific discovery is such an outdated way of thinking. Perhaps she'll start a support group for her fellow scions of the scientific community. ...Putting them all in one room together might be catastrophic, though. But imagine the memories— the postcards!

"Sure," Tannis answers a few seconds too late.

"I'm really scared right now," Lilith confesses, giving the ice pack an experimental squeeze. "How am I supposed to lead the Raiders like this? All these people looking up to me for guidance, trusting me to keep them safe…" She stands, ice pack still held to her cheek, and shuffles over to the window of the lab, watching stray passengers walk by.

Without the tattoos, one could mistake Lilith for ordinary. She isn't, of course, because Tannis has little patience for ordinary creatures. Tannis joins her at the window, briefly considering giving her shoulder a personable pat before deciding against it. Her touch has been described as overly clinical, robotic even, and apparently those were bad things to everyone else.

Lilith turns to her, brows knitted together and ruby lips pursed into a hard line. Tannis recalls a time when Lilith accidentally sipped from her cup of coffee, staining the styrofoam lid crimson. Normally, she would've exclaimed in disgust at the very idea of sharing a drink with someone, but her mind was enraptured by the lipstick stain for a full minute.

She eventually threw the unfinished beverage away, but the image remained. Accompanied by thoughts of Lilith applying the product to her lips every morning, golden eyes trained on her reflection. Tannis wonders if it stained skin the same way, then has to physically shake her head free of the image.

"I don't know what I'm going to do."

Tannis offers her best imitation of an encouraging smile. "What you always do."

“And what’s that?”

“Oh, you know. Maiming every bad guy in the galaxy, while providing plenty of what I’m told are topical and humorous quips.”

Those ruby lips stretch into a small, melancholy smile. In an attempt to dodge any prolonged eye contact, Tannis turns her attention to Lilith’s hair. The fiery locks seem to glow under the fluorescents, save for the hunks of sand and gravel lodged between them. They must’ve nestled their way in when the Calypsos left her on the ground back on Pandora.

On impulse, Tannis plucks one of the bigger pieces of gravel from the other woman’s hair. Flicking it onto the floor below, she can’t help but feel like one of the primates in her biology textbooks, preening its mate. Lilith’s golden eyes widen in what looks like half surprise and half bemusement.

“Uh, Tannis?”

Tannis doesn’t reply, as she’s entirely too occupied with picking through Lilith’s hair. The grainy sand and rough gravel contrasts against the soft crimson so harshly that she can’t _not_ notice. It also serves as a reminder of what the Calypso twins did to her, reminds Tannis of the visage of the Firehawk, broken and bruised in the dirt. 

Tannis doesn’t like to engage or indulge in any emotion, especially one as vulnerable as fear. But the fear she felt that morning was undeniable. Lilith always had an air of invincibility permitted by her siren powers, and Troy stole that. For the first time, Tannis had to consider the possibility of losing Lilith. That this would be the one conflict she couldn’t wriggle out of. 

Being a Raider, their whole affiliation for being the good guys, means putting themselves in harm’s way. Tannis has been dealing with that, long before _the good guys_ would even be caught near her. Don’t make friends on Pandora, because Pandora kills everything eventually; she knows that. She feels like an imbecile for caring. 

Why does Lilith insist on being so brave, so charming? It’s truly impeding a lot of scientific progress. 

“There’s dirt,” Tannis insists, plucking another hunk out. Taking it upon herself to run her index finger and thumb down a particular strand, feeling the soft texture. She thinks she’ll have to steal a bit at some point, just to test it to see if that vibrant color is natural. “I have to get rid of it.”

If she can’t save Lilith from the Calypsos, the least she can do is save her from looking like a total disaster. Humans care about things like that, and physical presentation is the only reason she hasn’t experimented more with her own body.

“Tannis,” Lilith says, voice softer. She’s certainly said her name a lot this afternoon— don’t wear it out, as they say. “It’s okay.”

“It is so clearly not!” Tannis squeaks out, mouth clamping shut when Lilith’s hand overlaps her own. Gently pulling it away from her head, she intertwines their fingers in a way that makes Tannis’ stomach drop to her knees. Figuratively, of course. Hopefully. 

“It’s over,” Lilith continues, giving her hand what is surely a reassuring squeeze. “I’m alright.”

Oh, what an excellent leader she makes, comforting her subjects even in her own time of need. Tannis decides she should’ve spent _slightly_ less time studying microbiomes and more human interaction, though it’d have little application outside her relationship to Lilith.

Relationship! What an interesting, gut-churning, heart-thundering word. She craves to crack her own skull open, rummage around in the wrinkles of her magnificent brain until she deciphers what she’s truly feeling. If it wouldn’t kill her instantly, she’d start right this minute. 

Lilith’s fingers move to her wrist, ghosting over the skin, pushing the sleeve of Tannis’ jacket up to her elbow. The tattoos pulse like they have a heartbeat, beautiful bioluminescence localized entirely on her epidermis. There’s both longing and appreciation in the other woman’s gaze as she traces a small pattern with a thumb.

It feels insensitive to wear secondhand siren tattoos in front of Lilith, so shortly after hers were taken. Empathy truly is an inconvenient roadblock.

“They suit you.” 

Tannis’ traitorous heart picks up the pace, figuratively pounding against the interior of her sternum. 

Still admiring the tattoos, Lilith says, “Do you remember that time, back on Pandora? When we…?”

“Kissed? And I projectile vomited, then said ‘you’re wearing a green shirt so no one will notice’? No, I don’t.” She’s using actual sarcasm. How _simple_ of her. 

Tannis does, in fact, remember. It’d been a typical sweltering Pandoran day, bangs stuck to her brow with sweat. Tasted salt whenever her tongue swept over her upper lip, hungry eyes wandering the expanse of a map. 

She’d paid a nondescript man to scout out a previously undiscovered cavern, mapping out the details as much as his low IQ would allow. The handwriting was atrocious, barely legible in places, but was much better than getting mauled by whatever lived in the cavern herself.

Lilith had abruptly yanked back the entrance to her tent, drenched in blood that wasn’t her own, tattoos pulsing furiously. Tannis blinked at her, as it was all she had time to do.

“Hey, Patricia—“

_Patricia!_ Tannis thought. It had to be serious, if they were dropping their usual layer of formality.

“—I totally almost just died, and it really got me thinking. So, uh,” Lilith paused, seemed to silently decide something, then surged forward. 

Held the sides of Tannis’ head in both hands, pressed their lips together, and it felt like a comma added to an already long sentence. An addition to the story they’d been working on for so many years now, a gut wrenching plot twist.

Speaking of gut wrenching, Tannis felt her own churn, despite her excitement. Too much too fast from the most beautiful woman on Pandora, in an unbearably hot tent.

Lilith retracted, leaving the memory of her mouth behind. Mumbled a half hearted apology for her forwardness, and confessed that it’d been a long standing impulse of hers. Tannis tried to think of something to say, only managing a squeak before expelling her nervous stomach. Directly onto the other woman. 

“I thought we agreed to never speak of it again,” Tannis adds, resisting the urge to cringe at the memory. It’d been humiliating for the both of them, and she’d thought all chances for them died right there, buried in chunks of her lunch. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Lilith says needlessly. Of course the Firehawk, commander of the Crimson Raiders, has been thinking. “About what matters to me. Who matters to me.”

Fingers creep back up Tannis’ wrist, to her hand, and lace between her own. Grip the clammy skin, giving it a gentle squeeze. Tannis chokes out an anxious wheeze.

“Promise me you won’t throw up,” Lilith says, mouth twitching into a smile. It’s dangerously close to Tannis’, hovering over chapped skin.

“I can’t,” Tannis confesses, unable to hear much over the sound of her own heartbeat. Her eyes flicker back and forth between Lilith’s golden ones and her lips, unsure of what deserves the most attention. 

Lilith lets out a soft laugh with a shake of her head. Overlaps her mouth over Tannis’ top lip, initiating the briefest of contact. It still makes Tannis’ knees threaten to buckle, though she supposes that’s better than the alternative.

“You’re here,” Tannis whispers, unable to shake off the harrowing events of the day. Of all the losses she’s endured, losing Lilith would be the worst. 

“I’m here,” Lilith agrees.


End file.
